Moments of Clarity
by SensationTwisted
Summary: She did not like this game. "What are we celebrating?" "My divorce. I signed the papers today." He whispered. Then as if aware he was showing how vulnerable he seemed, he waggled his eyebrows. "Want to give some comfort tonight?"


**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter nor am I making any profit out of this.

**A/N: **A snapshot of Hermione and Draco. Hope you all like it . A plot bunny that refused to leave me alone.

* * *

_01. I want to be your lover_

They became lovers before they ever became friends.

She was perfectly aware that the word 'lover' definitely was not the right word to describe _it_. She supposed the word she was looking for was 'fuck buddy.'

Nevertheless, there was no other explanation for why it happened.

She had gone to the Leaky Cauldron to reminisce. She was not quite sure what she wanted to reminisce about; nonetheless, she went because she _had _to. It was one of those days. The feeling in the pit of her stomach she had come to terms with. It was necessarily not unpleasant feeling but it always disturbed her to some degrees.

So, there she sat, near the bar and nursed her Firewhiskey. She was not in the mood to socialize. She was perfectly aware that the Leaky Cauldron was not the best place to go to if one did not feel in the mood for exchanging pleasantries but she did not give a damn.

Then her peace disturbed by _his _voice. Even today, she was unable to say why she knew it was _he _but she was aware that she _did_.

"Brooding? Really Granger? Scarhead rub off on you?" his drawl was immaculate. _Aristocratic_- that was the word she was looking for

She looked up from her fascinating study of the effect of lights dancing on her drink. She had been at this for _hours. _

There stood the nemesis of Harry Potter. She wondered if he was aware how much his identity depended on the Boy-Who-Lived. Probably galled his pureblood bigoted Malfoy self that he had become known because of one scar-headed half-blood. Blond hair versus dark hair; messy against combed, light over dark- they were.

She arched her eyebrows to do a Malfoy proud. "Wasn't aware Harry had the copyright on brooding?"

"Oh he has copyright on a lot of shite." Malfoy smirked.

Knowing that it was futile to resume her perusal of the light's effect on her drink, she looked up. "Do tell, Malfoy."

He plopped down on the chair in front of her. She watched fascinated. How did he manage to sit in that chair so languidly and make it seem like art? There was such artless grace about him that she wished she could emulate.

He arched his eyebrows, seemingly amused at her perusal of him. Hermione felt her face heat up. _Drat! _She tried not to wonder if her face was blotchy and red with embarrassment.

He smirked once again. "Well for starters, he seems to have a perfect marriage even if it is with the little Weaselette." His smile had not reached his eyes.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "No one has a perfect relationship. It takes work on both sides."

He laughed. However, it was not a laugh of mirth. "Granger, you haven't changed a bit have you -never one to pull back or kick a man when he is down."

Hermione frowned. What the hell was he yakking? She was aware that he loved hearing his own voice but even this was a little too much for him.

"So the rumours are true. All the time spraying your hair with gels has left you with a peapod for a brain," she whispered.

He had the gall to laugh. This time it was a laugh of true mirth. He sat there and chuckled until tears were streaming down his eyes and Hermione did not like it a bit. She felt like a first year Hogwarts student all over, out of the loop about what was happening. It infuriated her.

"How about I buy you a drink," he said. "I am in a celebratory mood."

She did not like this game. "What are we celebrating?"

"My divorce. I signed the papers today." He whispered. Then as if aware he was showing how vulnerable he seemed, he waggled his eyebrows. "Want to give some comfort tonight?"

* * *

_02. __You would not even know that I was there_

She smiled as she slowed down her pace. The little boy's left hand clutched her hands, sticky fingers, talked about the teddy he dragged behind him in his right hand. _Because his name is Teddy, too; was not that cool Aunt Granger and was he named after him. _She did not have the heart to tell him that all stuffed bears were Teddy Bears before kids with heartbreaking eyes decided to name them, something like George or Fred and that made her eyes tear up.

This of course compelled the little boy with hair messy with spikes a la his favourite uncle to ask why she had little diamonds in her eyes. Was she crying and was it because he had refused to share his cookies because he _really really _wanted to share it but it was _so _good and he would share it the next time.

She stopped, knelt down to look at Teddy at eye level, told him that it was not the cookie but one of those I-feel-down days that grownups experienced. Teddy, with his infinitive wisdom of five-year-old, soon to be six, shook his head and said that whenever he felt sad then he thought about happy thoughts and it always made him happy although sometimes he still a little sad. Besides Auntie Granger, it was his _happy _birthday soon so she should be happy.

Hermione laughed and wondered how the boy had the skills to drive away sad mood. Then she remembered his father with his infinite understanding and mother with her affinity for fun and guessed some things really were genetic after all.

Ted's reminder of his birthday reminded her of the fact that everywhere she looked there were signs of the sixth anniversary of the Battle at Hogwarts. Posters with _heroes _of the war, firecrackers, "souvenirs" of the war, signed posters of the golden trio were everywhere. Diagon Alley was getting ready to celebrate the victory and she was already tired and sick of it.

In fact that was why she had opted to be the one to take lil' Teddy out on a visit, escaping the celebration plans in the Burrow. Choosing to be the one to plan the boy's birthday helped her plans to avoid the committees formed for this _special event. _She shook her head at her morose thoughts, smiled at the little boy and he dragged her into Quality Quidditch Supplies.

The boy ran ahead of her and stared admiringly at Firebolt 3000. Shaking her head at the boy's tendency to emulate his godfather, she looked around the store for something to get for Harry's birthday, which was still a couple of months away but it did not harm anyone to plan ahead. She was so busy with her scrutiny of a book on history of Quidditch book she forgot about the little boy until she heard him giggle. She looked up and got the shock of her life.

Draco Malfoy was down on his knees and talking to the godson of his nemesis, son of his late cousin. "I am five," the boy said, holding up five fingers. "But I is going to have my six _happy birthday _soon."

From her position, she could only see Draco's back, and she watched, unsure if she should interrupt. But it seemed all was fine. She figured it was okay as long as Draco did not steal candy from the little boy out of spite, which she was aware he would do. Almost as if catching the drift of her thoughts, the man in question looked behind him causing her to flush. She hoped he forgot the sordid night two months ago.

Then all thoughts of the night of the sordid passion faded away when a little boy ran up to the man. His silver blond hair left no doubt whose son he was. She watched amazed, unaware that the little child's days were numbered.

* * *

_03. I__ want to be the one you call your friend._

She looked at him; candlelight danced in his grey orbs, and the shadows throwing his face in harsh relief. He looked comfortable, his usual stance of aloof full on tonight. There was a look in his eyes she could not quite comprehend, did not really want to comprehend. She was aware he examined her with the same fascination as she did him. She felt nervous, on edge, and fucking horny. It probably had something to do with his blue shirt that brought out the mercury silver flake in his eyes, his lips, or that she had not had sex in a while. The last time she had sex was with _him. _The night she had gone to Leaky Cauldron, knew that reliving it was a mistake, but her body refused to listen. Her knickers were uncomfortably wet and he had not even said a word yet.

"How's it going, Weasel?" he finally asked. Ron looked at him in distaste, nose wrinkling as if he smelled something foul. It took all of her self control to not roll her eyes, their predictable behaviour grating on her nerves.

"I am having dinner with 'Mione and you're disturbing us," Ron sneered, although it was not comparable to Malfoy's."

Malfoy smirked, unperturbed. "Nice to see that you've grown into being a gentleman with some manner, even if it is one worthy for house elves."

_Honestly! That was the best he could come up with. What is playing at here, disturbing Ron's __peace? _But she was aware that she should not attempt to antagonize him further, lest he blab to Ron what happened two months ago. Ron's face was already blotchy with colour, ready to explode from one more prod. Hermione figured she should attempt to calm her redheaded ex before he embarrassed both of them in the fancy restaurant.

Ron growled. "How is it _civilized _of you to disturb two friends' dinner?" At this Malfoy looked like a Cheshire cat handed his own canaries for him to maul, frightening really. She wondered if she should attempt something, whether that effort would cost her his silence, watched disturbed.

"Why don't you thank your _friend _for being such a _pal _in times of _discomfort" _His tone left no doubt about what type of _comfort _she had provided. Then the bastard left them but not in peace.

Ron exploded. "What did he mean by that, Mione?"

* * *

_0__4. Hopefully you will be there when my world comes crashing down_

Draco thought he heard someone screaming, not realizing he was the source of the sound. The Aurors looked at him, their eyes a blank wall, but disturbed on a level. Everything he learned from his father, the unshakable Malfoy control, shattered. His heart felt numb, as if it had stopped beating. He almost wished it did because then he would not have to face this. They had to be wrong, there was no way they were right. It was some sort of perverted joke perpetuated by that Weasel.

_Oh Merlin! _He felt like puking. But knew that it would be dry heaves. He had no time to have breakfast this morning because he was too busy preparing Scorpius for his time with the boy's mother, Astoria. Running late, Draco had hurried his son out of the Manor to spend quality time with his fickle ex-wife. Unaware that the kiss he had given him, the hugs, and the minutes spent before he left the apartment were the beginning of lasts. The minutes he had spent, mussing the child's hair, refusing to give him caramel from Honeydukes until his food was gone would be all he would be left with.

Potter looked disturbed, his face a mask of misery, but Draco did not give a damn. He leaned against the wall for support, in denial, understood that there was nothing he could do to stop the words coming out of the scarhead's lips.

"We need you to identify the body. The torture-," Potter seemed unable to continue. He took a deep breath for fortification. "The Deatheaters' torture has made us unable to fully identify the victim- the child."

Draco's face blanched, no spot of colour left in his face. A piercing sound of denial burst from his mouth, haunting the Aurors for the rest of their lives.

* * *

_05._ _I want to be there when you want to die _

There comes a moment in a person's life when everything they knew, thought they understood, proved they knew turns out to be false. They did not really know. She liked to think that she was better than most, not out of sheer arrogance, but rather because of her experience with dealing with boy-who-lived and the complexities with being his friend.

Of the trio, everyone was aware that Hermione Granger was the least impulsive, some would even hazard to claim kinder and certainly calmer. However, any thought of calm or serenity had faded away, for what felt like hours ago but probably ten minutes ago.

A lifetime of hatred, resentment, fear, and loathing faded away at the sight that faced her.

He looked over the ledge of the balcony, around him scattered remains of whatever he managed to throw or smash to the ground. She thought she spied a piece of what was supposed to be one rarest magical Ming vase but was not quite sure from the fleeting glance she had thrown around the balcony.

His hair looked as if put through a merciless machine; his hands had probably been less merciful than any muggle machine. She wished she could massage his scalp, take away the pain, surprised she felt a compulsion to do so.

"I might have been the biggest fuckup of the wizarding world but when I was with him I never felt so." The words uttered so low she was not sure he had spoken. His stare followed some unknown and unseen entity in the sky, pain in his face seemed to ooze out of all his pores.

This mass of pain, definitely, was not the man the world had seen at the funeral. The walls of his had crumbled and she was not sure if she actually wanted to witness _this. _Seeing him as an aristocrat playboy was far better than this broken shell of a man.

"Drac- Malfoy-"

He whirled around, the look in his eyes almost inhuman, scared her with its intensity. The glazed look of madness made her stumble back a couple of steps. He did not seem to notice, eyes firmly set on her face, his last lifeline. However, she could see that he was willing to let go of his last hold on life, he wished to face his end.

"You asked me once what the fuck I had to live for. How dare I live when there was others more befitting to breathe on this sodding planet? I will give you an answer, Granger. I lived for him. My world revolved around _him-_my baby. My golden haired angel," he broke down. "Is not that the most fucked up you had ever heard? A Malfoy- an angel! But he was. Oh that he was, my lad."

He made an inhumane sound as bowed with pain, almost a keen so painful, which set off an alarm in her head. This was not good; no, it was not. When she had buried the small mass that was Dobby, she'd wanted nothing more than a pain of the worst kind of the young Malfoy but now as she watched him fall apart in front of her she wished nothing of that kind.

He looked up from his position, eyes glazed with pain, hatred and _defeat. _Seeing this scared her more than she could ever say. Despair hit her stomach, her muscles clenched, palms felt sweaty, and legs a quivering heap of pain. Her eyes watered; try as she might, she could not blink the tears away. He had escaped into a place only he could reach, where not even she could reach. The impenetrable place seemed to shelter his madness, drown him with a potent poison and she could only watch, helpless. Wondered why she cared, wished she did not, knew it was impossible.

"Isn't it sins of the fathers follow the son or shite like that, right?" His voice was eerie, hairs on the back of her neck rose in response. He sounded like he had lost it, maybe he always had and she never noticed.

She licked her lips. "Actually, it's the sins of the father shall be visited upon the son a thousand times." If she could have, she would have bit her tongue. Damn her tendency to correct others, and damn her inability to stop being Granger and just be Hermione. She attempted to find Hermione, not sure if she was still there, the little eleven-year-old girl who had the capability to love, unlike Granger for whom emotions hidden away in preference for something safer.

He laughed a low laugh, hollow, bitter, and strangely beautiful in its heartbreak. She understood now he had buried something besides his son; his heart was now next to the sweet child, holding tenderly to boy's body, protecting him even in death.

"Of course it would be. I promised myself," he gulped, unable to finish. Tried to clear his throat, "I would stop that damn vicious cycle. I paid for my father's sin, dammit. I buried him, a traitor; branded him a traitor. But, I knew I had to stop it. Stop the cycle. My son was never going to be involved in this. He was my salvation. Everything I do- fuck. _Did,_ it was for him. I needed to be a man, I would never be worthy of being called his father but I tried. I fucking tried. Tried to pay for being the coward I was in the Astronomy Tower. It was a debt, and I would not have it any other way." He pulled his hair, slid down the ledge to sit on the cold floor. "Yet here I am. A fucking failure. Fuck, now it does not even matter what I felt at the Astronomy Tower. I was a child. But a man I couldn't protect- couldn't keep my promise-to save innocence."

Hermione was not aware that she was sobbing, maybe louder than he was. It seemed so inconsequential, the grudge and the hatred at the face of such pain. She was drowning, but she could not stop it.

"A father is not supposed to bury his child before him, Granger. A father is supposed to able to protect him. What the fuck does that say about me? I am a fucking failure- nothing more. What riches I would not throw to have him back, take his place. I wish it were me, buried next to him, my arms surrounding him, my baby's body."

He stood up, unexpectedly, startling Hermione. His cationic state absent and instead in its place left a determination. When she looked up to catch eyes, she barely held back a gasp; there was nothing in the mercury-filled eyes. She shivered in fear, as she understood what he wanted to accomplish.

She ran to him, unheeding of the broken shards of glasses. Caught his arms, wished she could do more, wanted to throw her arms around him, but understood she did not have the right. "No, Draco!" she wailed. "Don't. I know what you want, and don't. Please _don't_."

He tried to shake her hands off but she was tenacious, her grip his last hold on life. He did not want it, she was aware, but she did not give a damn, couldn't give a damn. She had started this week confused and ended the week in a moment of clarity. She would _save_ this man. "Please. Let me pay you back for what happened at the night with Bellatrix. Please. Don't die. You still owe me." She sobbed hysterically, without a care.

* * *

_06. __You showed me that all along you were a friend_

It had been months since the night of the funeral where Draco made an attempt to take his life, his effort undermined by a certain bushy haired witch. He was not sure why he had let her stop him, didn't know why she had cared, couldn't understand why he cared. He did not understand why she kept up with him, his attitude, his meanness, his depression. That witch was a miracle. No matter how much he attempted to push her away, she did not. It was not even out of romantic inclination because he was perfectly aware that she had been working on her relationship with her sod of an ex-boyfriend, Weasel.

Though he denied it, he continued to look forward to her visits. Her attempts to draw him into conversation still left much to be desired, most of the time conversations were stilted, but she continued, regardless. Her visit was the only highlight of his life, in his isolation. He did not want to face the world, see the pity in their eyes, satisfaction in others. Didn't know how he could face Astoria nor was he able to accept her attempts of reconciliation.

He still woke up at night, terrified and ran to Scoripus's room, but of course it was empty. Some days he was convinced he smelled the baby powder, other days convinced the lad was right next to him. Other days when the pain was too heavy he would walk down the hall to the boy's room and sleep in his bed, hoping to feel his presence there.

Now all he looked for was the busy haired witch. She was as acerbic, witty, and sarcastic as ever with him. She was his anchor, his light in his darkness. He was aware of the irony. The mudblood he had taunted his life had become the shoulder he leaned on, not that he would ever admit it to her.

He asked her the whys today. Her answers stole his breath. "We're friends." Then she casually invited him for an event where she was to accept her trophy for her work in some legislation or other shit.

* * *

_07. __I wish to be there where you are feeling high_

He watched from his spot, surprisingly in the back of the room, probably where one least excepted to see the young Malfoy, alone. But one look at the woman with her shining cinnamon sprinkled eyes, he felt his loneliness ebb away, his heart filled with sensations of warmth. A bittersweet feeling, one he was usually not used to feeling, the fleeting sense of what might be happiness.

Her eyes were shining, brimming over with tears. She clutched her trophy with her fingers, the grip surprisingly firm, and at her side stood Weasel. Her eyes shone with something that left a bitter taste in his mouth. The bookworm had her happy ending, her man was back in her arms and the wizarding world witnessed another success from the muggleborn. The Weasel dropped down on his knees, unheeding that his suite was probably getting dirty, produced the ring.

Yes, the mudblood with her fears of height was soaring and the seeker watched with the snitch that he might want to capture eluding him yet again.

* * *

_08. __I want to be there when they tell you nothing but lies_

The Wizengamot watched the Death Eaters along with the wizarding world with distaste. Hermione held Draco's hands in comfort as he watched the killers who had killed his three year old sitting in centre of the room in chairs with magical chains.

Susan Bones asked one of the Death Eater, "Why young Scorpius?"

The Death Eater, Jugson, snarled. "Why not Scorpius? His father was a fucking traitor. Look at him there, next to that mudblood, sitting as if he has the right to judge. The fucking coward."

Susan didn't blink but others in the room did. There was a rustle in the crowd before order was called by the Chief Warlock.

Another Death Eater sneered. "Guess the boy did take after his father. He whimpered like a little bitch when he was cursed. Screamed like a bitch, too."

Hermione felt Draco flinch, aware that most of the occupants of the rooms felt sick as they described the torture they had put on the little boy. She felt like vaulting over the balcony and slamming the Death Eaters with her hard. Draco continued to squeeze her arms, and tears leaked out of the corner of her eyes.

It was with a heavy heart that the two left when the Wizengamot decided on the Dementor's kiss for those who had partaken in the killing of the so-called blood traitor's son.

* * *

_09. You were the anchor in my storm_

She did not understand why she went to _him_, why not Harry, but her heart did not listen to the voice of reason. Her feet carried where her heart said she should be, in front of his apartment. He wouldn't even acknowledge their friendship. He was a bitch at his worst day but try telling the broken remains of her heart this.

Maybe a shouting match was what the healer prescribed; take her frustrations and her hurt out on him. Forget that she saw Ron with Lavender, that he had knowledge of all the tattoos on Brown's body. Yeah, she was not here for comfort, she was here for a battle.

But when he answered the door, she forgot all of that; fell into his arms for comfort.

* * *

_10. __I want you be there to catch my fall _

He blinked, petrified, heart pounding and he wondered why he ever thought it was simple. There she sat, sobbing, her hands clutching at his lapels, incoherent sounds coming out of her mouth, moaning for another man and he still fell.

He understood that precipice upon which he had stood upon, crumbled. He was not sure when but now all that remained were the crumbling pieces coming down around him, in this damn room.

He wanted to run, just get up and run. This was madness, improbable, the greatest irony of all. This was not happening, he was still on his cliff of aloofness, pureblood and bigoted and proud of it. But, of course, when had fate ever looked kindly looked down upon him.

She looked up and he knew he was gone. This was a fucking free fall and he fucking hated it. Because he knew, his fall was his own; she was not there to catch him.

* * *

_11. __You'll believe in love again when your head stopped spinning around_

The second time they slept together was after a visit to Diagon Alley.

Months after her broken engagement with Weasley, they both needed a break, she from heartbreak, he from the suffocating loneliness. As they walked down the lanes of Diagon Alley both attempted to avoid the gaping voids in their lives.

After a quick stop at an older witch's shop for something to chew on as they walked, for him not her, they proceeded towards Quality Quidditch Supplies. She understood it was hard for him to be at place frequented by Scorpius but she needed to push him out of his misery.

After arguing with her about the merit of the new and expensive cleaning supply for his broom, he gave in pouting. She wrinkled her nose at his expression. But as they left the store a little boy ran up and crashed into them. The boy looked up and Hermione saw colour fade from Draco's face, his twinkling eyes frozen. She looked down at the boy with blond hair and quickly saw that he was about what Scoripus would have been if he had not been tortured and killed by the last remaining Death Eaters in payment for Malfoy's position in the incrimination of the Death Eaters.

Understanding that he was in no position to disapparate anywhere she took him on side apparate to his apartment. As she ushered him inside the cosy living room, she was unnerved by his silence. He had not uttered any word and that worried her.

"Mal-"

Anything she wanted to say had been cut off by his bruising kiss. She wanted to know if he was okay, if he wanted anything, but his lips were punishing her and any last coherent thoughts she had went out the window.

It had been months since she had sex. After her breakup with Ron she had willingly gone for a dry spell. Now, the passion flaring between them, was out of hands.

Hands were busy unclothing each other, nipping as flesh was revealed. She did not know if this was what she had envisioned the second time they fucked but when his lips found the sensitive spot behind her ears, decided to take it however she could.

* * *

_12. __It is heaven when you call my name_

After that, gradually but slowly her closet showed signs of some other inhabitant besides herself. His ties hanging next to her scarves still made her pause while their relationship halted the wizarding community. Ron threatened to break someone's arms, Harry smirked, Ginny screamed, Pansy- well who cared what she did.

Concerning his bedside manner, she embarrassedly told him that she needed a quilt with her even when it was summer because she woke up cold. He came up with a solution by draping himself over her all night long.

Christmas together was a messy affair. Any preparation of the festivity reminded him of what his son was missing and Draco shut himself behind his office door. After a day she figured he had enough time to brood and went and had a row with him.

Christmas morning they went away from the country and frolicked in the beach. He then proceeded to show her why he was declared the Slytherin sex god.

* * *

_13. __But then I threw it all away. _

He screamed, she cried. He called her vile names; she proceeded to insult his mother and father. He slammed the door and left. Her day began with her head down the toilet, puking hearts out, and ended with misery, still puking down the toilet.

Her eyes gritty with tears she began to throw all of his clothes together, his ties ripped in her haste. Then seeing the picture of their vacation in Maui she bawled till there were no more tears left.

A baby! She had not told him how much she had wanted one, afraid that the incident with Bellatrix had left her incapable of having a baby. But she knew that she had to choose one or the other. He had made it perfectly clear that he was not ready to bury another child. He was done being a father. She better choose him over the child.

She had made her choice, wondered if she could live with it.

* * *

_14. __I will stand in the pouring rain if I have to. _

She blinked, twice. She blinked once more, just to make sure, because this was not happening. Wondered if Ginny might have put some hallucinogen potion in her tea and she simply was not aware of it because the scene in front of her was bizarre. Coming home in rain might have addled her brain without her being aware of it.

Her world had finally spun of its axis, earth had stopped spinning, the sun had set in the east, or else what could explain this madness.

Malfoy was in front of her, his eyes unblinking, water drops on his lashes, hair dripping, and his stare intense. She had not seen him in weeks, had heard from his secretary that he had gone to Scotland. He had shadows under his eyes, looked like he had not slept in a week, had a full grown beard, and looked as miserable as she figured she did.

He then continued to knock her socks off, since she was not wearing socks, she supposed her knickers off, and dropped down on his knees.

"Granger," he whispered. "Take me back."

Hermione blinked; she seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Oh, that and puke.

"I know I am a sodding git. I wonder why you even keep up with me. I am a dick at my best and my worst I do not even want to think about it. But dammit, I want to be _your_ dick. If anyone should make me cry, not saying you have, it should be you. I know I messed up. Punish me but don't kick me out of your life. I don't want to be a father again but I want to see you be a mother. I promised myself that I would never trust another innocent child with but if you want to then I am ready."

She was speechless, beyond speechless.

His eyebrows twitched. "Damn it, Granger. A least fucking tell me if you're going to take me back. My lips are numb and I can't feel my face. I am going to sit here till you tell me you forgive me. And what the fuck are you doing out in the rain? That can't be healthy for the baby? "

She ignored his tirade. "How long have you been waiting out here?"

"How the fuck would I know? This muggle contraption you gave me stopped working." He referred to his watch where the hour hand seemed to be stuck at seven.

She sighed. "C'mon in. I don't make anyone stand out in pouring rain for more than three hours. Damn that conscience of mine. Oh and I have strange cravings so you might want to be ready to make a run to a muggle store for ice cream later on. Oh and if you ever leave again, I will hex your body to the deepest part in Russia and gut you."

* * *

_15. __I want to be the idiot to light your fire. _

He watched, riveted, she continued to scream at him. He winced as she got to threat of hexing his family jewels to Alaska. He would have never thought her the temperamental kind, but then the pregnancy seemed to prove him wrong. He wanted to see her reaction if he ate the thing she called Oreos and see her reaction.

He got a bleeding firework in their living-room. Her explosion was magnificent, strangely arousing.

He figured now that he had begun the fire it was up to him to stroke the embers. He grabbed her and kissed her, hard.

* * *

_16. __I want to be there when your baby cries._

The healer wondered if his back would ever recover from being slammed into the wall and had the breath choked out of a worried Malfoy.

"Why the _fuck _is it taking so long?" he enunciated each word, slowly and precisely.

The healer wondered if that was how he killed and tortured someone else, too.

He gulped. "There are complications."

"What kind of complications? Aren't you inept people paid to handle these shits?" A growl was heard.

The healer hoped he would live to see his own child, as Malfoy kneed him in his groin wondered if he would even be capable of having a child. "The torture inflicted by Mrs. Lestrange, sir," he choked out.

They both heard her scream of pain, and Malfoy thankfully let go off him as he rushed into the room to see his girlfriend keening in pain. He held her hand in sympathy and solidarity; she squeezed the life out of him and threatened to choke him.

After fifteen hours, which felt like a million year to the poor healer, Malfoy and Granger welcomed their daughter. As they held the screaming child in their arms, both gazing at her tuft of blonde hair and grey eyes, they cried.

Then he turned to her and screamed. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me having this baby was going to endanger you?"

She blinked. "Oh that." Tried waving it away, but an enraged Malfoy was hard to wave away.

"Yes, that-Granger?"

She rolled her eyes in exasperation. She figured she deserved some kisses and tender words after fifteen exhausting hours, but of course when did Malfoy ever follow the correct route.

"You already were so unwilling to have this baby; I didn't want to let you have another reason. I knew the complications. I researched it. There was not as much information as I would have liked." She sounded peeved at this. He looked ready to hurl the baby at her. "But I knew you wouldn't let anything happen to me."

"Anything happen to you!" he screamed. "Fifteen hours, baby. Hell you almost lost the battle."

She was tired. "But I didn't baby. C'mon here and give me a kiss. Please forgive me for not wanting to worry you."

He rolled his eyes but gently set the baby in her arms and kissed her gently on the lips.

* * *

"Marry me?" he asked.

Hermione looked up and almost giggled. She knew this had been coming ever since Ron had asked Lavender to marry him. He thought she wanted to marry as well. Looking down at the sleeping one year old, she sighed, "Why?"

"Why?" he asked, annoyed.

"Yes, we are fine this way. I love you and you love me. We don't need anything else to prove it."

He looked relieved yet annoyed. "I want to say our vows though. It makes it seem real"

She smiled.

"_I want to be your lover and your friend so __you would not even know that I was there. _

_I want to be the one you call your friend. __Hopefully you will be there when my world comes crashing down and __I want to be there when you want to die. __You showed me that all along you were a friend. I want to be there when they tell you nothing but lies because you were the anchor in my storm. __I want you be there to catch my fall when you'll believe in love again when your head stopped spinning around. It is heaven when you call my name but then I threw it all away. I will stand in the pouring rain if I have to so I could be the one to light your fire. __I want to be there when your baby cries. I want to be there till the very end knowing that this is where I belong."_

-Fin-

* * *

**A/N (2): **Thanks all who reviewed. I just wanted to clarify that this is it. No sequel b/c I think the ending is how I want it to be.


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